


I Dream of Sansa

by MissSusanVance



Series: I Dream of Sansa Series [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, I Dream of Jeannie AU, i don't know how i come up with this stuff, sansa is a genie, stannis is confused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:05:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7602730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSusanVance/pseuds/MissSusanVance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stannis learns to be careful with old bottles - you never know what's in them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the lady in the bottle

Stannis stepped out of the restaurant and pulled at his tie until the tight knot around his throat loosened and he could breathe again. The night air in Volantis was nearly unbearable: hot, humid and stifling. Robert’s booming laughter could be heard easily from outside, along with the clatter of plates and the voices of other guests; at least one of them was enjoying Volantene hospitality. Stannis had been tired of this trip before it had even begun.

 

As COO of Baratheon Corp, Stannis was used to taking business trips and working long hours cleaning up after Robert’s laissez faire work style. The Volantis trip was no different. Instead of paying close attention to every footnote and each clause that the crafty Volantene board had insisted on inserting in their contract during negotiations, Robert seemed to view this as a pleasure trip, taking any opportunity to visit each and every bar, club or restaurant their hosts suggested.

 

At least the establishment they were in now had a pleasant setting. The restaurant, specializing in Volantene fusion cuisine, was situated on a boardwalk along the waterfront. The sultry air was made almost bearable by the ocean breezes that flowed across the shore and filtered their way inside the building. The first hour or so had been tolerable. Their hosts had pressed on Robert and Stannis nearly every kind of dish on the menu, something Stannis had found showy and wasteful. They were here to negotiate a business deal, not write a restaurant review guidebook. The final straw had been when the proprietor of the restaurant had brought out an armful of bottles filled with that thick, sweet anise flavored liquor they favored in Volantis…uozo, was that the name of it? Whatever it was, it was too much. Robert had insisted that Stannis drink a glass, saying that it would be an insult to their hosts to decline. The stuff had burned a trail down Stannis’s throat and seemed to light his chest and head on fire. He’d barked out some excuse, got up from the table and made a beeline outside for some air.

 

Along the boardwalk, the ocean air ruffled his shirt and lifted his sweat damp hair. The sun had set half an hour ago, but there was enough light in the lavender hued sky to see. The beach was thankfully deserted and quiet, most of the locals gravitating towards the more exciting part of the boardwalk that was lined with casinos. Stannis soaked up the sounds of the waves and the lack of voices chattering in his ear. The sea had always calmed him, ever since he was a child. He leaned against the railing and took a deep breath. Tomorrow he and Robert would be flying back to King’s Landing and this trip would be behind him.

 

As Stannis stood by the railing and looked down over the beach beneath him, he saw a bit of metal winking in the light. It was an odd shape, rounded, and not flattened like a crushed beer can would be. Vaguely curious, he walked over to the steps to the beach and went down; anything was better than going back in that restaurant watching the Volantene board members get Robert drunk to try and wrangle a better deal in negotiations.

 

The sand here at the shore was smooth and white, but littered with flotsam that had washed up from the ocean. There had been a storm two nights ago that had churned the waters into choppy, frothy peaks and had thrown any vessel in the water about wildly, even those tied up at their moorings. Even after growing up in the Stormlands, it had been an impressive event.

 

Stannis grabbed a handkerchief out of his pocket and pulled at the object. It was upside down, half hidden in a tangle of seaweed. Once the seaweed and other debris were removed, it turned out to be a beautiful carved alabaster bottle. What had caught the light was a fine silver filigree mesh overlaid on the lower part of the bottle. It was badly tarnished, but the craftsmanship was obvious. The stopper was a solid piece of carved alabaster, inlaid with what looked like silver-grey moonstone. _Who would have thrown this away?_ Stannis thought. From its condition and the amount of fishnet and seaweed that it had been tangled in, the bottle had been in the water for a long time. It must have been washed ashore by the recent storms.

 

Stannis took hold of the stopper to see if he could remove it; it seemed to be stuck. He set it down, took of his suit jacket and wrapped the bottle in it. Shireen always enjoyed beachcombing; he would take it home to her. She would be thrilled with this prize.

 

“Stannis! What are you doing down there? We’re leaving…let’s go!” Robert leaned over the boardwalk railing and shouted down at Stannis. Robert was looking much the worse for wear, red faced and sweating. The Volantene board members didn’t seem nearly as inebriated. _Damn uozo._ _They’re playing him like a harp._

 

Stannis sighed to himself and began walking back up the beach towards Robert. _One more night_ he thought to himself. Then he was off minding Robert duty…until the next trip.

 

 

Later that night (or early the next morning as he saw it), Stannis lay down on his hotel bed with a groan of relief. He wasn’t getting any younger, and keeping up with Robert was really catching up with him. After taking a quick shower, Stannis was more than ready to get a few hours sleep before their plane left in the morning. As Stannis stretched out on the bed, he saw the bottle where he had put it on the dresser when he returned to his room. He rolled over and pushed himself up, wanting to see if he could get that stopper out if he tried one last time. He certainly didn’t want to give this to Shireen if there was any chance that if the stopper fell out there was something dirty inside.

 

This time, Stannis was able to pry the stopper out. He turned it to see if there was anything inside; the opening was fairly narrow, too narrow to see much though, but nothing fell out when he tipped it on it’s side. _Safe to give to Shireen, then,_ he thought. The silver filigree casing would have to wait to be polished until he got home, but he could at least remove the smudging on the alabaster portion. With his thumb he wiped at a sandy smudge on the bottle’s neck.

 

A hissing sound started to come from the bottle’s opening. Stannis froze, and then flung it away from him. _What the hell?_ Iridescent blue smoke began wafting from the bottle, rising in to a column that gradually formed into a human shape. Once the smoke cleared, he was looking at the top of a woman’s head as she knelt on one knee at his feet.

 

“Your wish is my command, Master,” she said.

 

 _This could not be happening_.   He’d had one glass of uozo, he couldn’t be drunk. Exhaustion? Impossible; he’d been more tired than this before and hadn’t hallucinated because of it!

 

The figure raised her head, and he saw her face; she was the loveliest woman he’d ever seen.   As she looked at him, her eyes widened and she blushed. Her gaze flicked over him, and if it wouldn’t be vain and delusional of him he’d swear he saw approval in her eyes. She stood up and smiled at him.  

 

 _All right, this has to be a hallucination._ Stannis felt a bit ashamed of himself. Not only was he getting too old to handle work/Robert related travel anymore; his hallucination was rather disrespectful of women. How else did you explain a beautiful young woman dressed in a skimpy blue harem outfit calling him ‘Master’ and saying his wish was her command? Robert’s attitude was obviously was rubbing off on him.

 

“This isn’t real,” Stannis muttered as he slowly inched towards the hallucination. If he touched her, she wouldn’t be there. That’s how it worked with seeing things, right?

 

“Of course I’m real!” said the woman, who was beginning to look a bit annoyed. “See?” She reached out a hand and poked him in the shoulder with a finger.

 

Stannis jerked back away from her; he’d felt that, definitely felt that! He staggered back to the bed and sat down on the edge heavily. “Oh my gods, I’ve lost it. Robert has finally done it, he’s made me crazy!” He leaned forward to rest his head in his hands. _Take deep breaths, Stannis, that’s it. In, out…_

“This certainly isn’t what I imagined my Master would be like,” sighed the woman. “I thought you would be pleased. After all, genies are highly sought after. Think of all the things I could do for you.” She smiled down at him, looking reassuring.

 

There was nothing suggestive in her tone, but Stannis’s mind flew immediately into the gutter. _No, I’m not thinking about_ all _you can do for me_ , he thought, _absolutely_ _not_!

 

“A genie.” he said, as he stood and began pacing around the room trying to steer his thoughts into cleaner waters. “You’re a genie.”

 

“Yes,” she replied, giving him an even wider smile. She really was remarkably beautiful. “My name is Sansa, by the way.” She sounded a bit miffed that he hadn’t done the introductions properly. _A genie that’s a stickler for manners,_ he thought, raising an eyebrow _._

“I’m sorry, Miss Sansa-“ Stannis began.

 

“Just Sansa is fine,” she replied with a smile. “If we’re going to be living together, there’s no need for us to be formal.”

 

Stannis stopped short, giving her an incredulous look. “What are you talking about, living together?”

 

Sansa frowned, and he got the impression she was trying to tamp down her impatience with him. “I’m your genie now, so of course we have to live together. How else will I take care of you? See, it says it right here in the manual.” She tipped her bottle upside down, and a tiny book fell out into her hand. She blinked at it, and it grew to a normal size. While Stannis was still in shock that he’d just seen this woman _blink_ at a book to make it larger, she held it out for him to see. The title was _Your Powers and You: A Genie’s guide in 15 Easy Steps._

 

 _And there it is_ , he thought, _I’ve gone off the deep end._ _Not only am I hallucinating about some screwed up harem fantasy, she’s also a genie._ He sat down on the edge of the bed again. He could almost hear Robert roaring with laughter now; _only you would hallucinate a hot girl with a book, Stannis!_ Maybe if he just gave in and humored the hallucination it would end. “Listen Miss-“

 

“Just Sansa, please,” she reminded him.

 

“Right…Sansa. I’m sure you’re a very nice girl-genie-“

“That’s kind of you to say.” She gave him another one of those sweet smiles; it made his belly do a little flip. “You’re my first Master, you know. I would appreciate it if you would tell me if I do anything to please or displease you. I’m still feeling my way through this new…” she paused and searched for the right word, “…life.”

 

“Yes, well…” Stannis trailed off. Sansa looked so nervous, he hated to upset her. _Upset her? What are you doing? It’s a hallucination, for gods sakes!_ “I’m going to sleep now,” he muttered to himself, “and this insane dream will be over when I wake up.”

 

“Insane dream? I’m an _insane dream_?” The not-really-there genie – Sansa - looked rather insulted by this.

 

“Yes, and when I wake up, you’ll be gone.” said Stannis. And with that, he tuned back the blankets on the bed, got in and turned off the lights. _What the hell is in that uozo?_ was his last thought before drifting off.

 

 

 

 

Sansa looked at the sleeping form of her new Master. He was a strange one, that was for sure, but she could stand far worse than him if it meant being free of her bottle. _And he thinks I’m a dream-that he can just leave me here? Well, he better think again!_ Sansa had had a lot of time to think in the two thousand years she been trapped in the bottle, and one of the things she had decided is that if she ever escaped, she’d determine her own fate. And at this moment, her fate was tied to this man, Stannis.   He was older, and not what one would call classically handsome, but his dark blue eyes reminded her of the night sky above Winterfell. That was the deciding factor in her mind; where Stannis went, so did Sansa.

 

Sansa picked up her bottle from where her Master had carelessly dropped it to the floor. She placed the stopper back in the bottle and set it on the bureau. She would not be left behind.

 

 

 

 

Stannis woke to the shrilling of his alarm clock. It was 0500, and his and Robert’s flight would leave in an hour and a half.

 

He rolled over and saw the beachcomber bottle sitting on the bureau where he’d left it. In a rush he remembered his dream, and he got up out of bed to get a good look at the thing. It was perfectly normal. He pulled the stopper and did his best to peek inside the bottle; again, perfectly normal.

 

 _It was the alcohol,_ he thought, _and the exhaustion._ He had been working very long hours on this contract with the Volantene company, making sure that all final decisions were run by him as a last step, not by Robert, who was easily swayed and careless, or Renly, who was nearly as bad. _When I get home, I’ll drive down to the Storm’s End beach house and relax for a few days, really relax._ Davos could hold down the fort for a little while without him. Stannis grabbed up the rest of his belongings and threw them in his suitcase. With a last shake of his head at his bizarre imaginings last night, he laid the bottle in his bag too.

 

 

When Stannis woke up in his condo in King’s Landing, he glanced over at the clock. It was five P.M.; he’d slept four hours. He’d only meant to lie down and close his eyes for a bit, then pack up some fresh clothes and leave for the beach house the next morning. _I must have needed the sleep,_ he thought.

 

Stannis had called Davos, his friend and an executive in his department that afternoon before his nap. Stannis told him he was taking Monday off and to “mind the store” while Stannis was gone. “Mostly, just make sure that Robert doesn’t sign anything binding until I get back.”

 

“Of course, it’s no problem at all. You need to take more days off. It’s good for your health. Your doc’s going to tell you you’ve got hypertension one of these days,” Davos said.

 

Stannis paused; usually he hung up quickly; he saw no use in idle chatting, not even with Davos, who was his closest friend.

 

“Um…is there something else?” Davos asked. He was used to Stannis’s abrupt phone etiquette; if Stannis didn’t hang up after getting his point across something was off.

 

Stannis did some mental debating before speaking again. “When I was in Volantis…I think I had a bit too much to drink. I - saw something. Some _one_ that wasn’t there.”

 

He could practically hear Davos’s frown over the phone. “You…hallucinated?”

 

“Yes.” Stannis gritted his teeth but managed not to grind them. His dentist was really getting on him about that bad habit.

 

“I think you just need to take a few days off, have a rest. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, as usual. “

 

“You don’t think…. you think it was just a one off kind of thing?”

 

Davos paused before answering. “If you’re worrying about your mental heath, don’t. You’re the sanest man I know.   You just need a rest, that’s all.”

 

His condo held the scent of freshly cooked food. Stannis supposed it must be a neighbor, since he’d certainly not cooked anything before collapsing in bed. He felt almost human again; he’d needed the sleep. He stretched and rolled over onto his back.

 

“Good morning, Master.”

 

Stannis jerked away from the voice so hard that he nearly fell out of bed. He stared at the figure standing in his bedroom doorway, who was holding a heavily laden tray.

 

“Though I suppose I should say ‘good evening’, since it’s getting rather late.” Sansa walked over to the bed, her harem pants fluttering as she moved, the tipped-up ends of her silver slippers glittering. The tray she carried to him was covered in plates of delicious smelling food. She set it on his lap, smiling up at him as she did. It was a sweet smile, but it seemed to show a bit of iron underneath it.

 

 

“Did you really think you could get rid of me that easily?” Sansa said.

 

 

 

 


	2. Seeing is Believing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davos meets Stannis's new friend.

Davos tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he sat at a stoplight. It was Saturday evening, and the crowds were heading into King’s Landing for a night of restaurant visits, movies and clubbing. Weekend traffic into the city was usually horrendous, so he made it a point to avoid it if he could. This weekend his plans had been no different. He and Marya had the house to themselves tonight, and he’d planned to grill some steaks and vegetables for them to eat on the deck. His lazy afternoon plans had been upset by a very unnerving call from Stannis.

Davos had met Stannis while they both were attending college majoring in business. He’d often seen the middle Baratheon around campus, and they were sometimes in the same classes. They had both been the odd men out, Stannis because of his stern, aloof demeanor, and Davos because of his age. Due to some legal problems and a bit of jail time when he was in his early twenties, he started college classes late. Most of his fellow students were friendly enough until they found out he had a bit of a record; afterwards they made themselves scarce. Stannis had been one of the few who hadn’t distanced himself. “As long as you’ve paid your debt to society, I don’t care about your past,” he’d told Davos. “Who a man is matters more than who he was.”

Stannis had not only treated Davos fairly in this regard, he’d also helped Davos get a job at Baratheon Inc. after they both had graduated. Typically, for Stannis, he’d made it clear that this was not going to be nepotism. “I’ll get you started applying, but you’ll if you get hired it’ll be on your own merits,” Stannis had told him. However it had started, that first job had started Davos on the path to his career and the successful position he was in now. 

Because of his loyalty and fairness, Davos felt completely loyal to his friend, and accepting of his little social tics. When Stannis was abrupt to the point of rudeness, Davos knew not to take it personally; it was just the way Stannis was. 

Which made the second call from Stannis he’d gotten that afternoon so very strange. 

He’d been lying out on the deck reading when his cell had rung. Glancing down at the screen, the caller ID read ‘Stannis cell.’

“Hello, Stannis. Did you get enough rest this afternoon? Are you heading to the beach tonight instead?” Davos said as he answered the call. 

“Davos!” Stannis had hissed, “You need to come to my condo right now!”

“What? Why, what’s wrong,” Davos asked, sitting up straight in his lawn lounger. Stannis sounded strange; normally, he was abrupt on the phone, getting his point across with as few words as possible. Now, he sounded rattled, quite upset.

“Just…you need to get over here! Right now.” 

Davos was even more unnerved by how Stannis was talking. “Are you alright? What happened?” 

“I can’t tell you over the phone,” said Stannis. “Just for gods’ sake, get over here as soon as you can!” And with that, he hung up.

Davos stared at the phone for a second before heaving a sigh and getting up off the lounge, gathering up his book and drink and making his way inside the house. 

“Who was that?” asked Marya, turning from where she stood at the counter trimming vegetables for the grill.

“Stannis,” Davos said, setting his glass in the sink and hunting for his shoes. “He said he needs me to come over ASAP.”

“On the weekend?” Said Marya with surprise. She was almost as grateful as Davos for the opportunities Stannis had given to her husband, but she often worried that Stannis expected Davos to work just as hard as he did. Davos just shrugged and, with a last longing thought of his steak dinner, headed out. 

The upshot was that Davos was here, in his car, sitting in heavy traffic, nearly to Stannis’s building. If Stannis Baratheon had sounded upset, something was definitely up; Davos had often admired and sometimes envied Stannis’s nerves and will of iron. Davos was both worried for his friend and curious at the same time about what could rattle Stannis so badly. 

As Davos exited the elevator and walked down the hallway, he saw Stannis actually sticking his head out of the door of his apartment, waiting for him. What the hell is going on? he thought. 

“Why did you take so long?” Stannis hissed at Davos, while pulling him by the arm inside. 

“It’s Saturday night, the traffic was bad. What is it, Stannis? This isn’t like you.”

Stannis stopped him before he could move out of the small foyer area that was the first part of his apartment. He held up a hand to Davos, cautioning him to keep his voice low. It was at this point that Davos became genuinely concerned. Was there a break in? Did a rival company like the Tyrells bug Stannis’s condo? 

Stannis looked over his shoulder towards the living room, and said very quietly, “I don’t want her to hear our conversation.”

“Who?” asked Davos, at a complete loss. 

Stannis looked at him for a moment, his mouth pinched in a thin line. Davos took the opportunity to really look at his friend. Stannis looked squirrely, very unlike himself. If this had been any other person but Stannis Baratheon, Davos would have thought they were on something. Gods, was the trip to Volantis really that bad? What had Robert done this time?

“Remember this afternoon, when I called you and told you I’d had a … hallucination?”

“Yes…” Davos replied, wondering what that had to do with anything. 

Stannis took hold of his arm. “I need to you to look at something, to see that something is there and tell me I’m not crazy.” Stannis looked him directly in the eyes. “What I thought was a hallucination or a dream…. it wasn’t. She came back with me!” Stannis’s voice had risen while he’d been speaking, and he caught himself and went back to a whisper. “She’s a genie!”

Oh my gods, he’s had a nervous breakdown, Davos thought. What the hell am I going to do with him? 

“Alright…” Davos began, in the calming tone one would take if they were talking to someone ranting on a street corner. “If she followed you back home, does that mean she’s here right now?” Davos flicked his eyes around the little foyer, trying to seem like he was looking around for someone. Gods, if he had to pretend to see something that wasn’t there to keep Stannis calm while he tried to call an ambulance, Davos hoped he could at least be somewhat convincing. 

“No, of course not! She’s in the living room.” Stannis snapped at him, irritated. “Just come with me and I’ll show you.” 

Stannis let go of his arm, turned, and lead the way into the living room. Davos paused a moment to take a deep breath before following. This was terrible. He’d always looked up to Stannis, and thought he was so strong. To see his mind fractured like this was heartbreaking. Davos braced himself, and then followed into the room. At the doorway, he immediately stopped on a dime. 

A woman was sitting on Stannis’s sofa. From what Davos could see she was lovely, with long auburn hair wrapped into a ponytail and a fine profile. She’d been absently tracing her fingers along the armrest, but when she saw Davos she smiled and stood up, turning to face him.

All he could do was stare at the woman’s outfit. He had no other way to describe it except as a harem girl costume. She was wearing gauzy blue pants and a top of the same material, with a darker blue bolero over it. Her ponytail was pulled up into a little cap, and her face was surrounded with a filmy veil. Her slim arms and belly were bare, and on her feet were dainty silver slippers with a pointy, curved toe. 

“Sansa,” Stannis began, “this is my friend Davos, who I was telling you about.” Stannis slowly moved towards the woman, glancing all the while towards Davos to gauge his reaction. 

Davos had to clear his throat before he could speak, and even then he stammered “H-Hello, Sansa, nice to meet you.”

“Hello, Davos-” the woman called Sansa began, before being cut off by Stannis. 

Stannis looked at him sharply. “You can see her? You agree there is another person present here besides you and I?”

Davos nodded, still staring at her clothing.

Sansa gave Stannis a bit of an annoyed look at the interruption. “I’m so glad to meet one of Stannis’s friends, especially his closest friend.” She gave Davos a smile that made her even prettier. “Would you like a drink?” 

“No-“ Davos began, but Stannis interrupted. “Yes, Sansa, would you get Davos a glass of water?” 

“Of course.” Sansa went into the kitchen, and Davos pulled Stannis farther away from that room.

Davos stared after her as she walked to the kitchen, so that Stannis had to pull his arm to get his attention. “Well?” said Stannis. “You can see her, so at least I’m not insane.” His face twisted into a grimace.

“Stannis…are you sure this is for real? I mean, yes, this woman is really here but…a genie? How do you know this isn’t one of Robert’s little jokes?” Robert often ribbed Stannis about how he needed to ‘get laid and loosen up’. Davos wouldn’t put it past the elder Baratheon to hire a call girl to show up to Stannis’s home, dressed up in that skimpy costume and trying to convince him she could do magic. Robert would have thought the whole thing was hilarious; embarrassing Stannis, a beautiful young woman and a barely there outfit, three of Robert’s favorite things. 

“Do you think I haven’t thought of that already?” Stannis hissed. “She’s literally made things appear and disappear in this house! There’s no logical explanation for what she can do!”

Davos could only stare at his friend, wondering how fast the men in white coats could get here and what could be done to help. Gods damn it, how could a man like Stannis Baratheon have snapped so fast? But honestly the stresses of the COO position would have broken anyone else years ago.

Sansa returned with a glass of ice water for Davos. He was reaching out his hand for it when she opened her hand before he could reach the glass. He scrambled to reach for it before it fell, but he was pawing at nothing. He lifted his gaze and the glass was hanging in midair. 

“Oh, here you are.” Said Sansa, and blinked. The glass floated over to him, nothing supporting it at all.

Davos took hold of the glass and staggered back a few steps to sit down on the couch with a gasp. “That…didn’t just happen. I’m seeing things,” he muttered to himself. 

Stannis had an almost smug look on his face to see his friend’s shock. If Stannis Baratheon could have an ‘I told you so look’ he had one now. 

“Still not convinced?” said Stannis. He turned towards the young lady. “Sansa, why don’t you bring back what you brought here this morning to convince me. I’m sure Davos would be interested to see it, too.”

Sansa looked confused. “But, Master, you told me never to bring it here again.”

“I changed my mind. Go on.”

Sansa shrugged, then folded her arms over her chest and blinked. Davos didn’t see anything, and looked up at Stannis, who nodded behind him. Davos turned his head, and yelled out. 

A huge grey direwolf stood behind the sofa, the top of its head reaching at least five feet in height, it’s length even greater than the sofa. Davos could hear its claws clicking against the tiled floors and the huffing of its breath. Its gold eyes met his, and the direwolf showed its teeth. Davos hissed out a breath and leaned back behind the couch, mentally mapping out escape routes for all of them. 

“Now stop that,” Sansa said, and for a moment Davos thought she was speaking to him. But she walked calmly around the sofa and petted the wolf on its back. “Be nice to Master’s friends.” She began rubbing the wolf’s ears as though it was a pet, and by the lick the direwolf gave her fingers it seemed it agreed. 

“Enough, Sansa, send it away.” Said Stannis.

Sansa leaned down and kissed the direwolf’s head, then blinked. The wolf disappeared into thin air. 

“Holy gods…oh my gods,” Davos gasped. He set the glass down on the coffee table and leaned his elbows against his knees. He felt like he was almost about to pass out. 

“Take deep breaths,” said Stannis. “that’s what helped me.” 

Sansa bent down to Davos, looking concerned. “Are you alright? Here, let me make you more comfortable.” She blinked again, and Davos found he was lying on a huge, intricately carved four-poster bed, with velvet hangings and a fur blanket.

“That isn’t helping him, Sansa, just put the sofa back.” 

Sansa sighed and blinked, and suddenly the bed was gone, and Davos was lying back on the sofa. “At least lie there for a moment. You don’t look well.” Sansa said. 

Davos looked over at Stannis. “She can do magic…this is real!” 

Stannis nodded grimly. “Yes, and I need you to help me. “ He sat down on the armchair facing Davos. “She won’t leave. I need your help to cover this up. Can you imagine what would happen if people found out genies are real? Even if Robert only found out about her?”

“Gods,” whispered Davos. Robert had once been a fine athlete and the sort of guy you called when you wanted to go out to the bars, get hammered and have a good time, but that didn’t age well, and Robert was no exception. He seemed to be a perpetual five-year old, looking out for himself and his enjoyment only. Traits that were fine in a college buddy, but that were terrible in the CEO of a multinational company with thousands of employees. 

“Exactly,” said Stannis. “Can you imagine what he’d try and use her for? And for once it’s not even just the obvious thing Robert uses pretty women for. He’d turn the whole country upside down inside a week.” 

Davos pushed himself into a sitting position. “You’re right. We have to keep this from everyone, especially Robert. But how are we supposed to do that?” 

Stannis turned to Sansa. “Sit down for a minute, Sansa.” Instead of taking a seat on the sofa by Davos, she went over to Stannis’s chair and sat on its arm. Her shoulder pressed against Stannis’s, and she smiled at him. Stannis shifted in his seat and looked embarrassed, and Davos mentally raised his eyebrows. It seemed like there was something going on between his friend and the genie, but what? Stannis was hardly a social butterfly and his only focus since his divorce seven years before had been his job and his daughter. That wasn’t to say Stannis had lived like a monk; Davos knew of Stannis’s liaison with Melisandre and disapproved. To his mind, Stannis needed someone with more genuine warmth than the cold-eyed red woman. If nothing else, maybe Sansa would fit the bill.

Stannis cleared his throat and continued. “We need to teach her how to act in modern society. She has no idea, and I can’t just keep her locked up in the house; she’d create havoc, not to mention it’s not fair to her. If we can just give her some lessons in how to act in public and keep herself under the radar, I think it’ll turn out alright.” 

Sansa spoke up. “I’m sure I can do it, Master. My septa always told me I was her best student; I don’t believe that what you have to teach me will be too difficult.”

Stannis looked at her and nodded, and again Davos had that impression that something invisible was going on between the two. “All right,” he said, “we can give Sansa a crash course in modern society.” He shot a glance towards her harem outfit. “We can start with some clothes.” 

“I can make them,” Sansa said with a smile. “all I need is a book of fashion plates.”

“Um…fashion plates?” asked Davos.

“Just run down to the convenience store and get her a copy of some fashion magazine,” said Stannis. 

“Oh…. sure,” Davos said as he stood up from the couch. 

“We’ll see you out.” Sansa slipped off the armrest and took hold of Stannis’s arm to pull him up. Davos again looked surprised and Stannis vaguely embarrassed; it was unusual for people to initiate contact with the standoffish Stannis. 

As they walked towards the door, Sansa said, “Thank you for all your help, Davos. Stannis and I appreciate it.” She gave Stannis a look, and he said, “Yes, thank you, Davos.”

“I’ll be right back with the magazine.” As the door closed behind him and Davos began to walk down the hall, he thought to himself, when he got home he’d have his steak, a shot of whisky and a beer chaser; he’d certainly earned them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think!


	3. Campfire Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa tells her story, and Stannis learns that some stories you hear around the campfire are true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I'm soo sorry about the update fail. Time just got away from me. I hope you enjoy this chapter...it's the longest I've ever written, 5k words. A special thank you goes out to Tommyginger, who read this chapter and gave me lots of wonderful suggestions! I will do my best not to go so long between updates again!

The fourth floor of King’s Landing University library was deserted. The dry scent of mildewed paper and binding glue was in the air, and dust motes floated in the shafts of honey gold sunlight slanting through the hazy windows, which had changed angle dramatically since Stannis had first arrived in the history department. It was the first Sunday after the start of the Fall semester, far too early for the undergraduates to be bothered with research trips, while the masters and doctoral students tended to congregate around the first floor private rooms set aside for study groups. Here, sitting at a table tucked away in the library’s national history department, Stannis had plenty of privacy and room to spread out his sources.

 

The twenty-something junior librarian had been surprised by his request for access to texts covering the late Dragon Age era, but had showed him to the disused-looking area where the books were kept. From the looks of the place, only the occasional history major or doctoral student on a research mission ever ventured here.

 

Spread all across the large table were the books he’d found as well as his laptop, which he used to log in to the library system and view records and documents which had been scanned into an online viewing system; these were far too fragile for anyone but conservationists to handle. It had been five hours since Stannis had arrived at the university library, determined to find the truth about this woman who was adamant she would not leave him and that he was her master. Considering the only starting point for his research had been the name Sansa Stark, Stannis had found a fair amount of information.

 

Too bad it didn’t seem to add up.

 

There had been several women with the name Sansa Stark living in the Dragon Age, but Stannis had discarded them as his Sansa after some research. One Sansa had lived at approximately the correct time, but Stannis crossed her name of his list after reading that she had married her half uncle and lived and died in the North. Others with that name were placed too early in time or too late, or their ages were incorrect. But he was fairly sure that he had found “his” Sansa.

 

Sansa Stark was the only living child of Eddard and Catelyn Stark. Other children had been born both before and after, but none had survived. Lady Stark had died when her daughter was eight, and Lord Stark had not married again, though that left him with only a female heir.  

 

Lord Stark had been called to visit the Targaryen court around the time his daughter was approximately fifteen. King Rhaegar and a band of nobles had united years before to remove his mad father from the throne just a few years before; in exchange for the support of Lord Tywin Lannister, the unmarried, newly made king had wed a Lady Cersei Lannister, had a joint coronation with her and eventually three children. A betrothal was arranged between the oldest prince and the northern heiress, in order to quell grumblings that had been circulating in the North against the Targaryen rule.

 

 

The intervening two years had few records for historians to study. Many valuable records of court life of that time were lost to time. It appeared that Lord Stark had left his daughter at court and returned to the North, in order to allow her to acclimate to court life and get to know the prince.

 

It was set to be a story out of a song, the beautiful young North woman wedding the handsome crown prince; the two would become king and queen once King Rhaegar went to his rest, and together they would further the Targaryen dynasty with many sons and daughters.

 

Early in the morning, three years after Lady Sansa’s arrival to court, a great fire roared through the Red Keep. The fire swept through the castle, impacting the courtiers’ apartments as well as the royal residences. Most badly damaged was the Great hall. It was believed that the dry rushes and woven tapestries on the walls gave the fire fuel to spread. By the time it was gotten under control, the once magnificent Great Hall of the Red Keep was reduced to a hollow, charred shell. What made the fire especially disastrous was that a feast had been in progress at the time; the hall had been filled full with the entire Targaryen court. Many lives were lost that day, including the queen, the crown prince and the princess Myrcella. Included in the death toll was Lady Sansa Stark.

 

Lord Stark had recently arrived from the North, in preparation for his daughter’s wedding. He had searched the ruins extensively, but no body identified as Lady Sansa was ever found. Eventually, he returned to Winterfell. He’d had an empty crypt dedicated to Lady Sansa, and had died several years later, without ever remarrying or producing another heir. The wardenship of the North had passed to the Karstarks, as they were the closest kin to the Starks. The castle of Winterfell passed from owner to owner, until it was abandoned three centuries before. The ruins were now a historical area, and a popular tourist attraction in the North.

 

Stannis felt the hair on this arms rise when he read about the death of Lady Sansa. There was a campfire story, the sort that one told while camping to give the listeners chills and make them look over their shoulders into the dark woods. The story went that the ghost of Lady Sansa wandered through Westeros, looking for her lost love the prince and for her father. There were all kinds of variations of the story; Robert had once told Stannis that he and their father had picked up a girl hitchhiking from the side of a deserted country road. She’d asked them to drop her off at the next town, but she’d disappeared before they got there.  Robert had told Stannis it was Lady Sansa, the lost princess. Stannis, who’d been twelve at the time, had not believed Robert’s tale, but the story of the lost princess was retold all around the country, with small variations to suit the locale. Robert had told the same story to Shireen once, causing her to climb into Stannis’s lap, shivering and frightened.

 

If what Stannis was thinking was true, the Sansa that was in his apartment right now was Lady Sansa Stark, the lost princess. But how had she become a genie? How had she gone from pampered princess-in-waiting to a magical being trapped in a bottle? Stannis began gathering up this laptop and returning the books, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

 

 

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

 

Sansa was stretched out on the sofa in Stannis’s living room, engrossed in the pile of fashion magazines that Davos had brought her. She’d dog eared pages with outfits she wanted to recreate on them, and had already started to blink up a few of them and try them on, to see how they looked. She blinked on a yellow gingham sundress and eyed it critically; it was pretty, but maybe the print was too juvenile? She didn’t want Stannis to have any reservations about their age difference, either one, the twenty-some years between him and her when she became a genie, or the two thousand one between him and her now. She flipped the page and a bright floral print caught her eye; maybe in this “Marimekko” print the dress would look nice?

 

Sansa heard a key being put into the lock, and quickly blinked away all evidence of her indecisive fashion show.   As Stannis entered the apartment, she hurried to greet him, noticing even though he looked far too run off his feet, he was still quite handsome. It was odd; when she was younger she would never have found Stannis attractive, thinking him too old, his features too harsh and his manner too brusque. Now, if she never saw a fairy tale prince from a song again, it would suit her just fine.  

 

Stannis entered, carrying a sheaf of papers under his arm. Sansa hurried to greet him. “Master, it’s been hours since you left; did you eat lunch? You look so tired.” She tried to take the papers away from him and guide him to the sofa to rest, but he kept ahold of them.

 

“Sansa…let’s sit here for a minute. I need to discuss some things with you.”

 

Sansa felt her heart surge; Stannis looked more somber than usual. What could be the matter? Would he try and send her away? Where would she go? “Of course, I always enjoy talking with you, Master.” she replied, trying to keep her nerves under control.

 

They sat down on the sofa, side by side. Despite herself, Sansa folded her hands together tightly in her lap; Stannis sat rigidly at the opposite end, looking uncomfortable. “Earlier, when we…. first met…. you said your name was Sansa Stark, and that you had been in your bottle for approximately two thousand years, correct?”

 

“Yes,” she replied, wondering where this was all going.

 

Stannis turned to face her, and said, “This morning and afternoon, I went to the library to find information about you. To…verify who you were – are.”

 

Sansa frowned. “Could you not simply have asked me? I would not lie to you!”

 

“I couldn’t be sure of that. Look at it from my perspective – a strange woman appears in my life, tells me that we’re going to be living together, tells me she’s a genie and that she lived in this country two thousand years ago. Isn’t it normal for me to want to check this information before trusting this woman – as much as you can check up on a genie?” Stannis held her eyes; Sansa could see there was nothing malicious in his intent. He didn’t mean to hurt her – he only wanted to make sure.

 

 

“I suppose I can understand that,” said Sansa. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

 

Stannis grimaced. “Yes. But before I tell you what I found, I want to hear it from you; how did you end up in that bottle? How did you become a genie?”

 

Sansa leaned back against the couch cushions. The path she’d taken to becoming what she was now was an unhappy one; thinking about it hurt. But Stannis did have the right to know what had happened. She turned her eyes away from Stannis, and focused on a point in front of her.

 

“I was the only living child of my father, Lord Stark. My mother died when I was young. The Iron Throne ruled the North, but many were unhappy with this. We had been independent thousands of years, and under Targaryen rule only three hundred. Several of my father’s lords often spoke to him about succeeding. When we were conquered, King Aegon had dragons, but by then they had all died out. The North was so isolated; some thought it would be easy to withdraw from the rule of Kings Landing, especially when it became obvious that King Aerys was mad and unfit to rule.

 

“King Rhaeghar knew this. Once he and the southron lords removed his father from rule, he sent a letter to my father asking for my hand for his eldest son. It was thought that out marriage would stabilize the North and tie us to the Targaryen dynasty.

 

“My father accepted, and he and his retainers escorted me to the capitol. I still remember turning around in my carriage, and looking at my home as it shrank into the distance.” Here Sansa paused. At the time she’d been so eager and excited to leave her home, to join the southern court. How could she have known that was the last time she would ever see Winterfell?

 

 

It was bittersweet for Sansa to think of her father and her home; after the untimely loss of her mother, they had become inseparably close. When she was a very little girl, Sansa had spent most of her time with her mother, while her father had been busy with his duties as Warden of the North. After her mother’s death in childbed, there had been several weeks were Lord Stark had avoided his daughter; the sight of her, being in her presence, reminded him too painfully of his late wife. Sansa’s nurse Old Nan had been angered by Eddard’s standoffishness, and with the confidence of a servant who has been in a household her entire life, she confronted her lord about his treatment of his only child, his heir. After that, her father had taken on the duties of both parents, as well as beginning to raise her as an heir. Sansa could still remember the first time her father had brought her to a meeting with several of his bannermen; the lords had looked askance at the sight of a young girl attending their council with their liege. But Lord Eddard had given them a quelling look, and they backed down. Eventually, as Sansa attended more and more of these meetings, her presence was accepted and taken for granted. Her relationship with her father had blossomed into a close, loving one as well. Her father had taught her to love the North as he did, and while she was raised in the faith of the Seven as her mother had wished, she learned affection and respect for the people she would one day rule.

 

Sansa took a deep breath, and then continued. “I was young, naïve and sheltered by my father; I’d loved the stories of knights and their ladies, and I’d longed to live in the south. I thought marrying the prince would be the culmination of all my dreams, something that would make my life perfect.

 

“But the prince was not the gentle knight I’d imagined; he was kind and thoughtful at times, then moments later, without any warning, he’d turn cruel. Not only to me, but also to servants, courtiers, even his younger brother. It wasn’t only the caprices of a spoiled boy; Joffrey was obsessed with fire. He told me so many times about his Targaryen blood, how it gave him a special relationship, an affinity, with fire. It was… disturbing.

 

“When my father left to return to the North, with the understanding that he would return for my wedding in two to three years, I felt very alone. I had my maids with me, but the court was unlike what I’d expected it to be.”

 

Here Sansa fell silent. The first few weeks at court after her father had returned home she’d been miserable. She had thought being in the exciting, glittering atmosphere of the court would keep her from being too homesick; she was terribly mistaken. It wasn’t only the loss of her home, the familiar, which tore at her; it was the absence of her father that was the worst. The Southron ladies were kind but unsympathetic. In the south, it was normal for the children of nobles to be sent from home to be fostered or to serve as pages or maids of honor in other noble houses. Children didn’t have the close relationship she’d developed with her father. Sansa was the betrothed of the crown prince; she was at the center of court life, and one day she’d been queen. The other ladies at court had little sympathy or understanding of her feelings.

 

“There was a man who had known my mother, Lord Baelish. He’d grown up with mother in the Riverlands. He sought me out, told me stories about her youth. My father didn’t often speak of my mother; his grief over her passing was too close. I came to regard Petyr as an uncle. He was so kind and understanding, where the ladies I met at court didn’t seem to comprehend why I was unhappy. He brought me little gifts; he would pat my shoulder or hug me like Father. I trusted him. I remember my sixteenth birthday he gave me a beautiful necklace. When I told him it was too much, he said beautiful young women deserved beautiful things to wear and he kissed me…on the mouth. When I pulled back, surprised, he teased me for being a northern prude. It was true that the courtiers would kiss as a greeting, but I’d never seen them kiss on the lips…I thought I was just being a country bumpkin. When he married my Aunt Lysa I was so pleased, thinking that now he was an uncle in truth.”

 

Stannis felt a knot form in his stomach. As Sansa continued her story, it had grown into a sick feeling. The young, innocent girl Sansa had been couldn’t have seen it, but the way Baelish was treating her was the way a pedophile would groom their intended victim. Granted, Sansa had been fifteen when she’d first met Baelish, which in those times was a woman grown, but her naiveté and trusting nature made her easy to take advantage of. Shireen was thirteen, and even at that age she knew what the warning signs of a predator were. The thought of his daughter in conjunction with this Baelish made his skin crawl. He knew that if any man ever hurt Shireen in any way, he’d kill them and damn the consequences. He could only imagine what Lord Stark’s reaction would have been to the fact that an older man was treating his daughter in such an inappropriate way. Friend of Sansa’s mother or no, Stannis would bet there would’ve been hell to pay.

 

Sansa stopped speaking and rubbed her hands up her arms; she was reaching the part of the story that chilled her to think of. “The king noticed his oldest son becoming more and more unstable; Rhaegar had already had to contend with his own mad father and the unrest in the country his rule had caused; he certainly didn’t mean to put another Aerys on this throne after him. A plot was hatched, between the king and his hand and several of the great lords, including my father, who had retuned to Court by this time for my wedding. Joffrey would be removed from the succession, and confined in a palace in the country, much as his grandfather was. He’d be confined closely, so that he could not harm himself or others. Little prince Tommen would be his father’s successor. My father had returned to the court, supposedly for my marriage to Joffrey, but in truth to escort me back to the North.

 

“Somehow the queen was warned of this plan; her eldest son was her favorite. She told Joffrey of the plot, and must have been communicating with her father to determine their next steps.

 

“Joffrey, however, did not wait for any plans to be made. He took a container of wildfire from one of the places his grandfather had hidden it around the keep. While we were at dinner, he entered the Great Hall, carrying this wildfire. He screamed at his father that he’d kill the entire court and burn the castle down before stepping aside for his runt of a brother."

 

Sansa was silent for a moment. She could still see Joffrey’s face, features she’d once found so handsome, now made grotesque by his mad, rabid expression lit by the eerie glow of the wildfire shimmering in its glass container. She remembered how everyone looked, frozen in shock and horror; the king’s grim anger, the queen’s surprise, the fear of the court; all made more terrifying by that lucent, green glow.

 

“I felt a hand on my arm; it was Lord Baelish. He pulled me out of the hall and into a hidden passage just as Joffrey threw the bottle. Even as the wall closed behind us, I could feel the heat of the blaze; hear the screams of the people in the hall. It was horrible.” Sansa shivered, remembering that awful moment. She glanced over at Stannis, and saw that he was watching her closely. He was wearing his usual stoic expression, but there was something in the look of his eyes that told her he was sympathetic. She lowered her gaze again and continued.

 

“The passage emerged onto a beach, where Lord Baelish had a boat waiting. We rowed to a ship and in a week or so we were at the Eyrie, my aunt’s home. During the voyage I begged Petyr to take me back to Kings Landing; my father was there and he’d be frantic when I went missing. Petyr said that we didn’t know yet what had happened at court, and if the Lannisters were staging a coup. With this unrest, it would be best for us to get to a safe place; we could contact my father from there.”

 

Sansa swallowed against the lump in her throat; how could she get through relating this part without crying? It was the moment her life had irrevocably changed for the worse and she was set on the path to incarceration. “Once we arrived at the Eyrie…Petyr told me that my father had died in the fire; that nearly all of the people in the hall had been unable to escape. “ She wiped at her cheeks as tears fell down her face. She felt something flutter against her arm, and looked down to see Stannis holding out a handkerchief. She took it with a grateful look.

 

“As we settled into life in the Eyrie, I was listless and so unhappy. My aunt was cold to me, her son difficult and ill. Petyr often confined himself to his solar to work on something he kept secret from all of us. But he spent enough time with me to notice how I’d changed. I told him it was because of my father’s death. He said to me…. _what if you could change the past? What would you do? If you had the opportunity to obtain all the power needed to change the past, would you take it?_

“Petyr took me into his solar. It was filled with books, cauldrons and strange ingredients in jars. He told me that he’d discovered how to use magic, and how to harness it to his will…. but that only I could help him. Only a woman could be the vessel for this kind of magic. Lysa was too unstable, but he believed I was worthy and intelligent enough to carry the magic. He told me…” Sansa squeezed her hands together tightly, “…that I could bring my father back to life, using this magic, and that I could go home again.”

 

Sansa dabbed at her face with the handkerchief. “I was so foolish, so _stupid_ , I see now, but I would’ve done anything to have my father and my home back again.”

 

The spell had seemed simple enough. Petyr had her stand in a circle made of salt, then he’d marked her forehead, hands and feet with a strange smelling oil. He said words in a language she’d never heard before, and then went silent. Sansa had looked at him, wondering if that was all there was to it, when the pain struck. It began in her abdomen and radiated up to her head and down to her feet. She’d collapsed on the stone floor, curled in a ball and moaning in misery; she had never felt such agony before. Then, suddenly, it stopped. Instead of pain flowing through her, it felt like a warm tingling, almost a shivering sensation. She stood up, and the feeling slowly faded. But Sansa knew the magic was still there, present under her skin, with her always. She met Petyr’s eyes, and there amidst the pride and possession, there was a sliver of fear.   Sansa could understand why, and took a bit of guilty pleasure in it. She had power now; she would be untouchable, almost a goddess. And no one would ever hurt her or those she loved again.  

 

That was before she learned the constraints of her new existence.

 

“Once we performed the ritual, I felt so powerful. There was something intoxicating about having control over my own life, after a lifetime of being under another’s control. But according to the rules of what I am, I must obey my master. Petyr used me to neutralize his enemies, and while I hated every, cruel, vicious thing he made me to, I couldn’t resist the magic’s compulsion.  No matter what he ordered, he was my master and I had to obey. “

 

Sansa couldn’t bring herself to relate everything that Petyr had made her do. It wasn’t only the murder of his political rivals and the filling of his money coffers; it was the way he forced her to kiss him, to touch him. Her aunt’s paranoid jealousy had been a double-edged sword. Lysa’s accusations and her invasion of Sansa’s privacy had made her niece’s life a torment, but it had kept Petyr from having an opportunity to take his actions towards Sansa too far.

 

“Petyr and I spent many hours alone, as he taught me to control my powers and plotted who to move against next. My aunt became terribly jealous and suspicious of me, believing that I was trying to take her husband from her. Petyr had kept my abilities secret, but somehow Lysa found out. One day when Petyr was away, she came into his solar where I was in my bottle. She trapped me inside, and gave it to a servant who took me aboard a ship and dripped the bottle in the Narrow Sea.” Sansa raised her eyes to Stannis. “And that’s where I’ve been, until you released my from the bottle.”

 

Silence filled the room. Stannis was appalled at the story Sansa had just told him. This sweet young girl had been betrayed and abandoned by everyone who was supposed to care for her, with the exception of her father. Her king had betrothed her to his mad son, her aunt had kept her confined to the Eyrie instead of returning her to the North…. and Baelish. Stannis felt bile rise in his throat. That bastard was the worst of all.

 

Baelish had abused her trust, used her as a means to increase his power and wealth…and he’d assaulted her in the worst way. He’d lured Sansa into a maze of lies he’d created for her and abandoned her there. And the worst betrayal Sansa didn’t even know about. Stannis gritted his teeth. He’d rather do anything than what he had to do now. But it was his duty to Sansa, his duty to this beautiful, kind woman who needed his help so badly, who had been betrayed and abused by nearly everyone in her life.   Stannis hesitated, then reached over and took Sansa’s hand in his. If the gods he didn’t believe in were real, he prayed they would help him break this news to her gently.

 

Stannis met Sansa’s eyes. “That’s generally what I discovered reading records from your time. But Sansa….” Here he paused, drew a deep breath and continued, “that’s not quite what happened after the fire.” Stannis paused, then plunged ahead. “Petyr lied to you. Your father didn’t die in the fire.   He lived and stayed there for weeks, searching for you.”

 

Sansa sat motionless, barely breathing. “What?”

 

Stannis nodded. “Lord Stark looked for you; he was adamant that you were still alive. He searched for nearly two months, but eventually he was convinced you had died. He ended the search, returned to the North and lived eight more years.”

 

Sansa stared at him, uncomprehending. The shock was like losing a limb; she couldn’t feel it at first. Then the pain hit her like a lightning bolt, and she burst into loud, wailing tears.

 

It had all been for nothing; leaving the capitol like a thief in the night, enduring Petyr’s sly words and glances, her aunt’s coldness, the physical pain of becoming a genie and her two thousand year imprisonment. All of it because of the deceptions of someone who wanted her dependent on him, and who wanted to use her to gain more power, who wanted to own her body and soul.

 

Sansa couldn’t say how long she cried; it felt like hours. Eventually she became aware that Stannis had put his arms around her, and that she was sobbing into his shoulder. A fresh wave of tears surfaced. “I’m all alone! It was all for nothing… I have no family, no home, no place in the world. What am I going to do?”

 

“Sansa, look at me.” Stannis said. His voice was rough, but low and soothing. She did as he asked, and Stannis put his hands on her shoulders. “What Baelish did to you is appalling, vile and completely unjust. I swear to you, I’ll give you all the help you need. This is your place, as long as you want to be here. Whatever happens, you’ll always have a home with me.”

 

Sansa looked into his dark blue eyes, filled with empathy and kindness; she took in the determined look on his rugged face; he may not look like the knights she used to dream about, but this man would protect and defend her, no matter what. She could see the truth of that in his eyes. And in that moment, Sansa fell headlong in love.

 


	4. Road Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Tommyginger for beta-ing this for me...I appreciate it so much! Sorry for taking so long to write another chapter. I got a little writers block and then time just got away from me.

Stannis leaned his head into his hand and rubbed at his temples. He was sitting in his office in Baratheon Tower, computer open to a spreadsheet that should have been reviewed two days ago and files covering his desk so that he couldn’t see the wood beneath them. Normally he would have all of this work done with time to spare, by coming in at his usually time of 7:00 and working until six, then taking what was left over home with him and finishing up there. For the past week, he’d been neglecting his duties at work, something in the past he would’ve had no tolerance for, in himself or anyone else. But now, Stannis would allow that circumstances were extraordinary and warranted the slacking of his work ethic.

 

The days since Sansa had told him about her father and had learned the truth of what had happened to him had been hell.

 

Sansa was understandably devastated learning the truth about the lies that Baelish had told her in order to control and use her for his own ends. Stannis had become used to having his genie greet him cheerfully at the end of his work day, scolding him about working too late and not eating enough to keep his strength up; but lately he’d arrived home to see her sitting morosely on the sofa, staring at nothing. Even this was an improvement, though; the first day or two after learning the truth, she’d stayed in her bottle crying. She had attempted to come out to blink up something for him to eat, but Stannis had told her dinner was the least of his worries; she needed to take the proper time to grieve. After that, she’d stayed mostly sequestered in her bottle bedroom.

 

He was at his wit’s end trying to think of a way to help her, to make her feel better. The few times she’d been out of the bottle, he had sat beside her on the sofa, trying to at least be there for her, though just being there and doing nothing felt awkward and inadequate. Yes, they said that sometimes just being there for someone who had experienced a loss was the best thing, but surely there was something _more_ he could do. He had thought to ask Davos, but didn’t want to expose Sansa’s private history to anyone without her say so. And a gift or flowers would just be a laughably pathetic attempt to distract her from her pain.

 

 

So here Stannis sat, looking at but not seeing his computer screen, racking his brain to think of a way to help his genie.

 

Stannis heard a knock. “Hello, anyone here?” His younger brother Renly pushed open the door and stepped into his office. “What am I saying, of course you’re here, Stannis, who else would still be at the office at seven thirty on a Friday night?” Renly chuckled, “At least you let your secretary go home. I don’t know how that poor girl hasn’t slipped something into your coffee, considering how late you make her stay all the time.”

 

Stannis gave his younger brother a glare. He hadn’t realized it was so late; he needed to finish up and get home to Sansa. “What are you doing here, Renly?”

 

Renly flashed him the million-watt smile that charmed women and men alike. “Dropping off the expense report for the Foundation, Mr. Charming. Loras and I are on our way to dinner, so I thought I’d pop by and give them to you.” Renly was on the board of the Cassana and Steffon Baratheon Foundation for the Arts, a charity Robert had set up in memory of their parents. Renly had inherited their mother’s interest in the fine arts, so this line of work was perfect for him.

 

Stannis grunted an acknowledgment, then frowned at his brother, trying to jog his memory.

 

“Oh no, it’s the Stannis frown. What’s wrong this time?” sighed Renly.

 

Stannis frowned harder at his brother’s typical flippant attitude. “When Loras’s college friend passed… didn’t he see a counselor or something?”

 

Renly nodded. “Yeah, a couple times. Why do you ask?”

 

Stannis leaned back in his desk chair. “I have a…friend… who has experienced a loss. I’m trying to think of a way to help her.”

 

“Ooh, _her_ you say?” Renly replied. “Are you finally dipping your toe back in the dating pool? High time, I say.”

 

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my _friend_ ,” snapped Stannis. “She’s having a very difficult time.”

 

“What happened?” asked Renly, leaning his hip against Stannis’s desk.

 

After a moment’s consideration, Stannis said, “Her father passed away and she wasn’t there to say goodbye.” He could remember how that felt, vividly. Watching with Robert as their parents’ boat had capsized and sank in Shipbreaker’s Bay was something he’d never forget, and that he often wished he could. He couldn’t remember what exactly the last words he said to his parents were, but he know he would’ve wanted to say something better, something more meaningful if he’d known that he’d never see them alive again.

 

“Oh, that’s tough,” said Renly, his mocking attitude softening. “I know when Jason died, what especially hurt Loras was that he was abroad and couldn’t get back in time to go to the funeral. He went to a therapist for a while, and she said that closure is really important in resolving grief.”

 

Closure…Sansa had never had that. An idea began to form in Stannis’s mind. He stood up from his desk and started to gather his things. “Just leave the report there and I’ll look it over tomorrow.”

 

Renly began to walk towards the door. “Well, good luck, Stannis. I hope your friend feels better soon.”

 

Stannis barely heard him. He was eager to get home and see what Sansa thought of his plan.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sansa was lying on the curved sofa in her bottle, trying to relax. She’d been sleeping poorly or not at all the past week; whenever she tried to close her eyes and rest, she could see her father’s face and imagine what he must have gone through thinking she was dead, how alone he’d been the last years of his life. _Why was I so stupid,_ she thought? Why had she believed what Petyr had told her? She should have demanded proof. Because of her, Father had died alone, without her by his side. The Starks had died out after thousands of years and strangers had occupied Winterfell and protected the North.

 

In her heart she knew that she wasn’t at fault and shouldn’t feel guilty, but how could she not? She had failed her father, her only family, as well as her people. She wanted to ask Stannis how the North had fared under the Karstarks, but was too nervous in case the answer was negative; she couldn’t bear to add anymore misery on top of that she was already feeling. Plus she knew she was neglecting her Master. Stannis never complained, but she felt him watching her closely ever since he’d broken the news about her father. She knew he was concerned but he didn’t know how to make her feel better.

 

Sansa heard a key in the lock, then the sound of the door opening. “Sansa?” her Master called.

 

Sansa sat up and rubbed at her cheeks, quickly picking up her hand mirror and glancing into it. She patted down her hair, and blinked. Iridescent blue smoke carried her up and out of her bottle, until she stood before Stannis. “Welcome home, Master,” she said. “I hope you had a pleasant day.”

 

Stannis frowned at the ‘master’ and waved his hand. “It was fine. I wanted to talk to you, Sansa. Let’s sit down.” He went over to the sofa, and Sansa trailed behind him. The guilt she felt at neglecting him rose up again. “I’m sorry I’ve been so upset lately, Stannis. I promise I’ll be more cheerful soon. It’s just been so difficult…” here she trailed off, feeling the burn of tears behind her eyes.

 

“Sansa, never apologize to me for being unhappy about what happened to you. You have every right to your grief and to take as long as you need to feel better.” Stannis said gruffly. He awkwardly reached out and patted her hand. Sansa pressed her lips together tightly, fighting the knot of tears in her throat back even harder; he was so sweet to her. Why didn’t anyone else see how wonderful he was?

 

“I had an idea today, and I wanted to get your thoughts on it. Whether of not we do this is completely up to you, but I think it would help you.”

 

Sansa attempted a smile. “What is it?”

 

“I think we should visit Winterfell. I think it would help you to see your father’s grave.”

 

Sansa jerked her hand out of his, and stared at Stannis. Nervousness seemed to rise up in her chest and claw at her heart. “Why would I want to do that? It’s already difficult enough to think of what happened. Why would going to Winterfell help me?” The thought of actually seeing the ruined walls of her childhood home and where her father was buried made her clench her hands into fists against the trembling of her fingers. She anxiously jumped up from the couch, suddenly unable to be still. 

 

“Hear me out” Stannis said. “The deaths you don’t see, where you can’t say goodbye and come to terms with it…those are the hardest. I know what I’m talking about.” Sansa looked into his face and saw something in his eyes that told her, yes, he did have experience with what she was feeling. But whom had he lost? He’d never told her.

 

Stannis stood up and came to stand in front of her. “Wouldn’t it help you to say goodbye and whatever else you feel you want to say to him? Once you do this, you can start to move on with your life.”

 

Sansa shook her head. “No, I’ll never forget him, never!” she cried.

 

“Of course you won’t. No one’s asking you to.” Stannis gave her a look. “But do you really think that your father wouldn’t want you to be happy in your life, especially after all you’ve been through?”

 

Sansa closed her eyes for a moment. No, of course Father wanted her to be happy. He had loved her; she knew that down to the bottom of her heart. He would want her to smile again. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “All right. When do we leave?”

 

 

 

 

The autumn sunlight looked different this far north; whereas in the south the sun still, even this late in the year seemed to shine golden on the landscape below, here north of the Neck, the light had a pale, watery quality that seemed somehow to magnify the chill in the air. October was only in its second week, but here jackets and scarves were needed if one was going to be outdoors for any length of time.

 

The highway they had taken had been built mostly along the route of the old Kings Road, and Sansa thought it was appropriate that she was taking essentially the same route coming home as she had taken when she’d left it. Nothing looked familiar, of course; twenty centuries had done a thorough job of obliterating the look of anything she could remember from her time. That didn’t mean the journey was without any pain; when the highway had reached an exit for the road to the Riverlands, with a sign showing how far it would be to the historical castle of Riverrun, Stannis had asked her if she was interested in seeing her mother’s birthplace. Sansa had said no; this journey was already unsettling enough without adding to it. Seeing how much the world had changed was unsettling in the extreme. Somehow it was less immediate in Kings Landing. Here, closer to where she had spent the majority of her childhood years, the gulf between then and now was driven home very sharply. If she got through the visit to Winterfell, maybe another time she could work up the courage to visit her mother’s home.

 

The journey had been mostly silent, but it was a comfortable silence. Stannis seemed to understand that she needed time to organize her thoughts, and even from the beginning, there had been an underlying sort of ease between them. During the journey, they had needed to stop for the night. Stannis had offered to get her a separate room at the hotel, but Sansa had declined; she felt the need to be close to him, the one constant in this new world. She’d brought her bottle with her, and had passed the night in it on the nightstand beside Stannis’s bed.

 

The car began to slow, and Sansa was jerked out of her reverie. Looking up, she saw they were taking the exit for Wintertown, and her heart seemed to jump in her chest. She reached out and took a hold of the door handle in a white-knuckle grip.

 

“Are you alright?” asked Stannis.  Unable to say anything, Sansa nodded. Stannis glanced over at her again, concern in his eyes, but she barely saw it; she was too busy looking at their surroundings. It was so _different_.

 

Stannis guided the car through the narrow streets of the town. Suddenly, he pulled over and parked by a line of little shops. He unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door to get out.

 

“Where are you going?” asked Sansa.

 

“I’ll be right back,” he replied, and disappeared into one of the shops. He was gone a few minutes, and Sansa soon became engrossed in looking at her surroundings. There were so many more buildings; she again began to feel that she was disconnected from everyone and everything she’d ever known, and her nerves had begun to rise to a fever pitch when the driver’s side door opened and jolted her out of her thoughts. Stannis got back into the car and handed her a bouquet of flowers. They were beautiful, a mix of autumnal hued chrysanthemums and daisies. Sansa looked over at him in question. “I thought you’d like some flowers to place on Lord Eddard’s tomb."

 

Sansa eyes filled with tears. This, here, was why she loved him. What other man in the world would adapt so well to a genie entering his life, something completely beyond his experience? What other man would be so gentle and good to her, despite his gruff demeanor? Seeing her tears, he cleared his throat and started the car, and soon they were on the road to Winterfell.

 

Sansa held her breath as they drove towards her former home. It wasn’t quite as derelict as she’d been afraid it would be. The outer walls were gone, but the inner part where the Great Hall and some of the more public rooms had been was still standing. The wing where the family’s private apartments had been was gone. According to the guidebook Stannis had gotten for them at the visitor’s center, this section had burned down centuries ago and had never been rebuilt. As they entered the Hall, Sansa blindly groped for Stannis’s hand; he slid his fingers through hers and gently gave them a squeeze.

 

The castle was mostly deserted. This time of year was not a popular time to tour the North, and Stannis and Sansa had the rooms to themselves as they wandered through them. As they passed into the corridor behind the Hall that lead down to the crypt, Sansa felt her heart begin to race. Father was here, lying down below in his tomb, all alone. She and Stannis reached the top of the steps, and Stannis suddenly stopped.  “Do you want to be alone with him?” he asked. Sansa thought for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you.” She gave his hand a return squeeze before letting go and descending the stairs to the burial vaults, the bouquet in the crook of her arm.

 

The underground vaults smelled musty. Above her head were long rows of fluorescent lights leading off into the distance. Beside her on either side were tombs, these later dating ones containing the remains of various Karstarks. On the wall above each were plaques with each occupants name and dates of birth and death on them. For some of the more notable people, there were small blurbs about their lives. Sansa consulted the map of the crypt in the guidebook, and slowly began to walk towards where her father was buried.

 

 

Stannis waited for Sansa a while in the corridor, then he wandered to the entrance of the Great Hall and leaned back against the wall. He felt jittery and preoccupied; his worry for Sansa gnawed at him. Normally he liked history and touring historical sites, but today was all for Sansa and his mind could hold nothing else. Seeing her grief brought back painful memories of losing his own parents, and he hoped that this trip would begin to help her heal.

 

He couldn’t say how long it had been, but eventually he saw Sansa coming up the steps from the crypts. Her eyes were reddened and her face tearstained; the bouquet was gone.

 

Stannis quickly strode over to her and, after a moment’s hesitation, wrapped her into a hug. She gratefully leaned into him, leaning her head against his chest. She was shivering, either from emotion or from cold, and he rubbed his hands up and down her back. When she looked up at him, there seemed to be some peace in her eyes that had not been there before. She held his gaze and said “Thank you, Stannis.”

 

Nothing more needed to be said.

 

They decided to look around the Great Hall and then go and have some lunch. As they walked around the perimeter of the Hall, Sansa’s hand tucked in his, Stannis watched her out of the corner of his eye. She looked calmer, more relaxed, and he hoped that this journey would let her begin to come to terms with her grief and move forward.

 

As they were looking at the weapons and portraits displayed in the Hall, a medium sized canvas hung in a prominent place on one wall caught Stannis’s eye. His breath caught, and they came to a stop.

 

The sitter was in three quarters profile, her delicate features rendered in fine, careful brushstrokes. Her auburn hair was fastened at the sides with carved ivory combs then flowed long and loose down over her shoulders and back. The blue eyes looked out directly at the viewer, and seemed to have a secret that she was challenging you to discover. A plaque below the portrait read ‘Sansa Stark, the Lost Princess. Reproduction painted from an ancient original that has been lost.’

 

“My goodness!” came a voice. “You look exactly like her!” A middle-aged woman with her husband and young granddaughter stood behind them. “I can’t believe it! Are you descended from the Starks?”

 

“Muriel, remember what the guide said, that the Stark line is gone?” said her husband.

 

“But really, she looks just like the lady in the portrait. So maybe she’s descended from one of them that survived!” cried the woman. “Isn’t she lovely? And you look just like her, dear.”

 

Of course she was lovely; more than that she was beautiful, inside and out. This portrait only showed the outer, less important aspect of her beauty. The more rare and precious kind was here beside him, finding the courage to build a new life in an alien world, facing her pain and grief by coming back to her childhood home to grapple with her loss directly.   Yes, Sansa Stark was physically beautiful, but that wasn’t what drew his heart to her. It was her warm brave spirit.

 

Stannis glanced at Sansa, wondering if this talk of the portrait and her resemblance to it would upset her. But Sansa only smiled and said, “Maybe I am.” Then she turned, pulling Stannis with her, and they began to walk towards their car.

 

Stannis opened the door for Sansa and watched her as she got settled. Climbing into the driver’s side, he turned and looked at her. She gave him a little smile. “What is it?”

 

He thought about how brave she’d been that day, how brave she’d been ever since he’d met her. She had shared something personal and painful with him and allowed him to support her through it. He had never really opened his own private self to her. At first it had been due to his innate introversion; then with the business of getting her adjusted to modern life, it had fallen by the wayside. Now he decided to speak to her, to let her in; after all, it was only fair.

 

“Sansa…” he trailed off and after a moment reached out and took her hand in his. “When I was fourteen, I lost my mother and father in a boating accident…”


	5. Hello Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Tommyginger for looking this over for me and to my readers for sticking with my lazy self! Hope you enjoy!

Early in the morning, Stannis’s apartment was mostly in shadow. It’s windows mostly faced north and west, which was perfect for those who loved to catch up on their sleep on weekends. But Stannis found that he couldn’t sleep in if he tried. There was far too much to do. Later in the day he’d have his weekly call with Shireen, as his teenage daughter was definitely not an early riser. His daughter lived with her mother in Oldtown. Shireen had been accepted to a prestigious school there, so while he missed her, Stannis certainly wanted her to get the best education possible, so the separation was worthwhile. 

But there were plenty of other things to do. He’d been doing less and less weekend work lately; ever since Sansa had come into his life, he’d been occupied with teaching her how to function in modern society.  
He would never admit it, but he enjoyed taking Sansa around to show her new things. Seeing movies, skyscrapers and so many other things that were just background to him through her eyes was almost like seeing them for the first time again. This afternoon they were going to a little art house theater that showed old movies. They featured different actors each weekend, and this weekend was Cary Grant. Sansa had loved An Affair to Remember when it had been on TV; she’d cried at the ending, waving off Stannis’s concern, saying “All the best stories make you cry.” as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. So when she’d discovered that the theater was having a double feature of His Girl Friday and North by Northwest, she’d begged Stannis to take her. 

This morning was no different from any other Saturday. Stannis had gone for his morning jog in the gym on the ground floor of his building. He was returning to his apartment now, planning to check if Sansa was awake yet. 

As he stepped out of the elevator, wiping his face with the towel draped around his shoulders, Stannis stopped short. He could see straight down the hall to his front door; there was a large man leaning against it, looking like if he wasn’t holding on to the wall for dear life he’d be on his back on the floor. Gods damn it he thought, beginning to grind his teeth without realizing it. It was Robert. 

 

“Stannis!” boomed Robert his brother caught sight of him. He staggered towards his brother and leaned precariously close to Stannis. “How’s my sourpuss brother today?”

Stannis grimaced and leaned away, trying to breathe through the scotch fumes his brother had blown at him. “Keep your voice down, I have neighbors!” Stannis snapped. “Gods, what are you doing here at six thirty on a Saturday?" He shouldered his way by Robert, unlocking the door and slipping inside, trying to block Robert as he did. 

Robert ignored that and pushed his way past his brother and into the apartment, staggering a little as he did. “Don’t you remember? You told me to come stay with you if I was out until the morning so I didn’t have to run the gauntlet at home with the harpy.” 

Stannis shut the door and rubbed his temples; he could already feel a headache forming. “Yes, I remember.” Robert was notorious throughout Kings Landing for his all night benders. He was so regular at the various bars around the city that reporters knew where to look for him to get a good photo for their papers and magazines. If he was still out by this time, they all congregated at the front gates of Robert and Cersei’s house, trying to get the scoop on the CEO of Baratheon Corp staggering home tanked while his former runway model wife screamed at him. After one too many of these incidents made the company stock plummet and their shareholders froth at the mouth, Stannis had told Robert to just come to his place and sleep it off before heading home. Robert hadn’t done it since Sansa had started living with him. I guess it was too much to hope that he’d get on the wagon or go bother Renly for once, he Stannis thought with a bitter twist of his mouth. 

He glanced nervously at Sansa’s bottle as he tried to guide his brother towards the kitchen, hissing in annoyance as Robert ignored him and flopped gracelessly on the couch. “Just stay there. I’ll get you some coffee.” Robert grunted at him, already listing over onto the couch’s arm with his eyes half closed. As Stannis moved past the side table, he grabbed the bottle and carried it in front of himself so Robert couldn’t see it, glancing over his shoulder nervously. 

As the entered the kitchen, he moved over to the far corner, as distant from the living room as he could get. “Sansa…Sansa wake up!” Stannis hissed against the top of the bottle as he tried to hide inside the pantry. It took a moment, but a wisp of blue smoke began to rise out of the bottle. It wafted over the side of the bottle and onto the floor, gradually forming into Sansa. She was dressed in blue pajamas with fluffy clouds on them, and her hair fell long and loose over her back. On anyone else Stannis would think the pajamas looked silly and juvenile, but on Sansa they were lovely. In his eyes there was nothing she wouldn’t look beautiful in. 

“Yes, Master?” she said with a yawn, stretching her arms over her head. “Is something the matter?”

“My brother is here.” Stannis leaned over to check the living room. Robert was sprawled across the couch, head back, mouth open, starting to snore. 

Sansa gasped, putting her hands over her mouth and huddling farther behind the pantry door. 

“Exactly. I need you to keep out of sight until I can get him out of here.” Stannis cupped her elbow in his hand. “I’m sorry to ask you to hide in your own home, Sansa, but my brother…” he trailed off. “Well, let’s just say I know how he’d react to finding out genies are real and it wouldn’t be good.”

“That’s perfectly alright, Master, I’ll stay in my bottle until he’s gone. We won’t miss the movie, will we?” She looked embarrassed to ask him something like that in the middle of a mini crisis, but she’d been looking forward to it all week. 

“Hopefully no. Usually Robert wakes up around noon and goes home.” His jaw clenched. Damn his brother and his terrible timing and selfishness. 

Sansa nodded and crossed her arms, getting ready to blink herself back into her bottle. 

Stannis laid his hand on her arm. “I’ll tell you when it’s safe to come out. And remember…no need to call me Master. ” Sansa smiled at him, and, in a puff of smoke, she’d returned to her bottle, safe from Robert. He tucked the bottle up on the top shelf of the pantry. 

Stannis went back to the living room. He took ahold of his brother’s shoulder and shook him none too gently. “Come on, get up, you’re going to the guest room.” Robert groaned and whined, but eventually Stannis was able to hoist his brother upright and drag him to the guest bedroom, where Robert flopped down on the bed without even taking off his shoes. Stannis grimaced in disgust and squatted down to take them off himself; he always insisted guests take off their shoes at the door. As he left the room he closed the door firmly behind him. 

Again, damn his brother. If the gods had chosen to make Stannis the eldest, or if Robert would get over some of his stubbornness and step aside so Stannis could run the company…he let the thought trail off. The gods had no interest in people’s problems, and certainly not in his little trials and tribulations with his brothers. He’d just have to play the hand he was dealt, and stand it as well as he could. 

 

Sansa leaned her head against the cushions of the circular sofa in her bottle and sighed. It seemed like hours since Stannis had woken her to warn her about his brother’s unexpected appearance. After returning to her bottle room, she’d gone back to sleep for an hour or so, but she hadn’t slept well. Now she was fully awake and bored out of her mind. She could hear Robert’s snoring clearly, loud and grating. Why was he still here? she thought. 

Maybe it was silly, but she really didn’t want to miss her outing with Stannis, especially this one. She’d been looking forward to seeing more of Cary Grant’s movies. Robert was passed out asleep in the guest room; her careful Master had surely closed the bedroom door. Surely if she snuck into Stannis’s study to ask when his brother would finally leave no one would see her. In a blink she was standing inside the pantry. Slowly, she tiptoed towards the living room; no sign of Robert. She peeked down the hallway; the door to Stannis’s study was at the very end with the door cracked open, past the guest room. She began to walk down the hall, trying to be a quiet as possible. 

Suddenly the guest room door opened. Sansa froze. 

“Hey…girlie…. who are you?” came a raspy voice. 

Sansa froze in shock. Slowly, as if that would make this not real, she turned and looked behind her. Robert was standing in the doorway and he was looking straight at her. He looked her up and down. “What in the gods’ names are you wearing?” 

“Um…” Sansa’s thoughts were jumbled; this was bad, so very bad. “I’m the cleaning lady.” Please, she thought, please let me believe me! 

“I’ve never seen a cleaning lady service that send their girls out dressed like that. And believe me if it was around, I’d use it!” he leered, looking her up and down. Horrified, Sansa realized she was in her genie costume, complete with harem pants, midriff baring top and little hat with veil. Stannis had explained to her the connotation of such an outfit in the modern world and she agreed of course she wouldn’t wear it in public. But it was so comfortable, and after two thousand years, she’d gotten used to it. Now her Master’s libertine brother had seemed to get the wrong idea from it. 

She heard footsteps from Stannis’s study, then the door swung open and then Stannis was there. He looked even more panicked than she felt. They looked at each other, then back towards Robert several times like mummers in a farce. Finally, they both stared at Robert. After a moment, Stannis began, “Robert…this is my-“

“House cleaner!” Sansa cut across him.

“Um…right. My house cleaner.” Stannis gave her an incredulous look. She could almost hear his thoughts; why did you come out while he was still here? 

Robert gave a laugh. “Now, come on, sweetheart, I wasn’t born yesterday! You’re no cleaner, not dressed like that!”

“Don’t call her that!” snapped Stannis harshly. 

Well, she’d gotten them into this mess, and she’d get them out of it. “Yes, it’s true! I was just here to clean up. Isn’t that right Master?”

Stannis’s eyes closed for a moment, and Sansa gasped in horror and slapped her hands over her mouth; she’d called him Master…in front of his brother… who was never supposed to meet her…while dressed in a scandalous set of clothes. This was not going to end well. 

Robert’s eyes had gone wide; he had gone absolutely still. Now it was his turn to look back and forth between his brother and Sansa. He swallowed, a look neither Stannis nor Sansa could interpret on his face. If Stannis had to guess, he’d say it was a mixture of surprise, confusion and interest. Robert smiled woodenly at Sansa, a very different kind of smile than the lecherous one he’d directed at her earlier. “Would you mind giving my brother and I a minute, sweetheart?” he asked her. Stannis bit back a growl at the rude way he addressed Sansa. Honestly, Robert was a dinosaur in regards to addressing women; the only reason Baratheon Corp hadn’t been sued for sexual harassment a thousand times was because Stannis had assigned the ancient Miss Blankenship as Robert’s secretary; the woman was either half deaf or ignored what she didn’t want to hear, so Stannis had no fears from that quarter. Robert would have eaten a sweet young assistant alive. 

 

“Oh...of course.” said Sansa. She shot an apologetic look towards Stannis as she passed him, heading towards the back bedroom. 

Stannis turned back towards his brother, guiding him towards the living room and bracing himself for the chop busting he was certainly going to get. 

Surprisingly, Robert was quiet for a minute. He still wore that confused look from earlier. 

“So…I’m not sure what I interrupted here this morning, but I really don’t want to know anymore about it. Whatever weird, BDSM thing you have going on with that girl-who’s way too young for you by the way-“

“Excuse me?” thundered Stannis. “What did you say?” 

“You know…gags and tying people up…the whole fifty shades of grey, spanking sort of thing. I woulda never guessed you were into that thing, Stannis. But I guess it makes sense in a way.... you are an anal-retentive control freak who loves bossing people around. I’ve never been into that but hey-“ Robert shrugged “whatever floats your boat.” He wandered into the kitchen, where he helped himself to Stannis’s coffee. Stannis followed him, trying to tamp down the outrage that was currently strangling his voice in his throat. He came up behind his brother as he was rummaging in the refrigerator, ruining Stannis’s carefully arranged groceries. 

“I am not acting out some sort of sexual fantasy with Sansa!” he was finally able to choke out. He kept clenching and unclenching his hands, wondering if a lawyer could argue it was a crime of passion if he strangled his brother…just a little bit. 

“Oh, is that her name…pretty” said Robert. “I’m not judging, Stannis. But let me ask you-“ he took a gulp of coffee. “Do you go to those, what do the call them, dungeons or anything? I’ve tried a lot of stuff, but not any of that. Do you think I’d like-“

“Out! Get out!” Stannis barked, appalled at this entire conversation, Robert meeting Sansa, this entire day so far. 

“Fine, fine I’m going.” Robert started heading for the door, grabbing his suit jacket as he went. “But why don’t you bring your girl by to the Harpy’s party next week? Gods know I need something to look at other than those ancient crones she always invites to those snooze fests. They’re all wrinkled and saggy.” 

“She’s not-“

“Yes I am. I’m Stannis’s girlfriend.”

Both Stannis and Robert whipped their heads around. Sansa stood at this end of the hallway. She’d changed into jeans and a pink sweater and looked delectable. Stannis could only stare at her, mouth open in shock. 

“Well, great!” boomed Robert. “So you’ll come with Stanny to my wife’s cocktail party? It’s usually a bunch of boring old people she knows and her stuck up family but if you’re there I’m sure we’ll find things to talk about!” said Robert with a grin. 

“Out, out right now.” Stannis pushed Robert towards the open front door. Calling him Stanny was the cherry on top of this awful morning. 

“All right, all right.” Robert looked over his shoulder and waved. “Bye, Red!”

“Nice to meet you, Robert.” Sansa gave her most charming smile as Stannis slammed the door behind his brother. He rested his forehead against it for a moment, sighing. Gods, what a day.

“Stannis?” He heard Sansa come up behind him. “I’m so sorry. I thought he was asleep.” 

Stannis turned and shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I should never have let him in this morning.” Well, what was done was done; it couldn’t be helped. But he did have one question for his genie. “Why did you tell him that you were my…that we were together?” He couldn’t describe, even to himself, the mixture of feelings hearing her call herself his girlfriend had caused. Something like surprise, disbelief and elation all mixed together. 

“Well…” she was blushing, “it seemed like the best thing to do, at the time. He certainly wasn’t believing that I was here simply to clean.“ She turned and wandered farther into the living room. “And anyway, doesn’t it make sense to tell people that, since it’s clear that I’m living with you?” 

Stannis muttered an agreement, unable to look her in the eye. It suddenly struck him as almost funny, that having someone as beautiful and sweet as Sansa calling herself his was the most bizarre thing that had happened in this whole situation, considering that he’d discovered a magic bottle with a genie inside it. He sat down on the armchair and gave the huff that for him was a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” asked Sansa, perching on the arm of the chair. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at her. “Nothing, really.”

“Then you aren’t angry at me?”

He reached up and took her hand, squeezing it. “No, of course not.” 

Sansa smiled down at him. “Well, it seems like we have a party to go to.” 

Stannis looked down; Robert and Cersei’s parties were usually memorable, most often for the terrible time he had at them. This one was shaping up to be more of the same.


End file.
